The Gentleman Spy: A Guardian/Ward Historical Romance

Epilogue

Emerald sailed into the study at Oakmoss, her lips set firm with determination. The dowager and Louisa were out paying calls, and her husband wasn’t due home for some hours still. He’d been gone a sennight at the Duke of Cudworth’s, where he was collecting some sort of intelligence for Lord Duffy under the guise of attending a hunting party.

In the weeks following the debacle at the theatre, her husband had resigned from his role within the Home Office, or rather he had attempted to. Beau was resolved in his decision—said it was past time he stepped away—but Emerald knew he was doing it for her and couldn’t bear to watch melancholy tug at his handsome features as he reconciled himself to life as a country gentleman.

Between her firm encouragement and Lord Duffy’s reluctance to part with one of his best men, Beau gladly agreed to work domestically, spying on the gentry in a capacity which would keep him safer and much closer to home.

Home. The word had taken on new meaning since her marriage. For so long Emerald had lived in the in-between.

She ran her hand over the polished wood of the desk, her desk as much as it ever was Beau’s. As she came around to take a seat, her stare drifted to the wax stamper he gave to her on their wedding day. On it, an oak tree with E.C. tangled in its roots. Emerald pressed a finger against the little hollow under her eyes to stop the tears that formed every time she dwelled too long in her happiness, in the unfamiliar security of knowing she was forever a part of the family she’d loved for so many years already.

Settling herself, Emerald plucked a clean sheet of paper from a drawer and tucked the top edge a little under the book open that sat on the desk to hold the sheet steady. She splayed one hand across the pages to keep the volume open and cast a quick glance over the recipe, licking her lips as she did so. The rose and thyme drops were one of her favourite sweet treats, and she had promised to share the recipe with a friend. Dipping her pen in the inkpot to her right, she began to copy the list of ingredients.

As she wrote, she ran through a list of everything else she hoped to get done before everyone returned and the house bustled with life once more. On a breath, she caught hints of oak and spiced vanilla in the still air around her.

‘How long have you been watching me?’ she called out without looking up, the smile on her face warming her voice.

‘Long enough to be pleased with myself,’ answered her husband with a chuckle.

Her eyes came away from her elegant, even lines when she heard the hush of the door closing and the click of the lock. Beau sauntered towards her, still dressed in his riding clothes, his glacial blue eyes warm and mischievous.

‘Are you this very moment returned?’ Emerald couldn’t keep the surprise from her question, even though whenever he returned from a trip he always found her for a kiss before retreating to wash the travel off. She wasn’t sure the novelty of him belonging to her would ever wear away, nor did she wish it to. ‘You must’ve spent the last four or five hours on horseback.’

‘Just over three. Arion would be offended to know how little you think of him.

‘Which would you like first, a bath or refreshment?’ she asked, setting her pen down.

‘Neither. You’re my first order of business.’

He came round the desk and pulled her chair out.

‘I’m in the middle of copying a recipe for the Duchess of Hazelhurst, and after that, I’ve got a list of improvements to the attics from Mrs Marshall to review, and then an article on selective breeding Sims left for me to read,’ she replied, doing her best to imitate the haughty manner her husband was known for but hearing the huskiness creep in as she undressed him with her eyes.

‘How about a little wager, my love?’ Beau slipped between Emerald and the desk and knelt down in front of her, squeezing her hips in his hands and pulling her forward till her bottom nearly came off the seat. ‘If you can finish copying your recipe before I make you call out my name, I will take myself off forthwith and leave you to your lists and articles.’

Her eyes narrowed, but she smiled. ‘I won’t ask what you get if I win. The recipe is quite short—it would be a feat even for a man of your skill.’ Although as she said so, the thought of her husband touching her quickened her pulse.

Beau slid his hands under her skirts, grazing the back of her calves with his fingertips and trailing them up to draw circles on the underside of her knees. The light touch prickled her skin.

‘When I win,’ he began, his hands finding their way to her thighs and opening them. ‘You are mine the rest of the day, work be dammed.’ He smoothed his hands up to the creases of her legs, pushing her dress up in the process.

Emerald opened her mouth to reply, but the only sound that came out was a quivering whimper as Beau glided a thumb over the bud at her centre.

‘Am I to take that as your agreement?’

‘Certainly. Only, I can’t—’ The gentle heat of his tongue on her sex made it impossible for her to concentrate on what she was saying. Her head tipped back against the smooth leather of the chair, and her eyes drifted close. She tried to shut her mouth, but found it impossible to keep up with her increasingly rapid breaths.

He paused only long enough to ask, ‘Can’t what, my love?’ Beau caressed her in slow, firm strokes, cupping her backside and drawing her more fully to his mouth.

Emerald felt the aching anticipation building with every sweep of his tongue, every flick of its tip. ‘Can’t—can’t reach the paper—” Beau moaned against her, the vibrations cascading over her in little tremors of pleasure. She dropped her pen, mindless of the ink still in it, and glided a hand along the flesh of her collarbone before her fingers dipped under the edge of her bodice to tease her own painfully taut nipple. He skimmed the pad of his finger along her entrance, and when he dipped only the very tip into her, her thighs trembled on either side of him.

‘Beau, please.’

‘Please, what, beautiful bird?’ he asked, the tip of his finger still teasing her.

Emerald writhed, trying to take more than he was willing to give. ‘Please. You. Inside me.’

On a throaty groan, he rose and lifted her, knocking over the ink pot as he settled her on the desk and positioned himself between her legs. Her eyes lingered a moment on the hardness constrained by his breeches before her hands took over, undoing the buttons with frantic efficiency while his own tugged the bodice of her dress down to free her breasts. He bent to take the rosy peak of her nipple into his mouth, and she moaned when he swirled his tongue around one and then marched across the valley of her breast to the other before working his way up the sensitive bare skin of her neck. The action had forced her back onto her elbows, and when her husband came away, she watched him release the last button of his breeches and push the fabric down his hips with hungry eyes. He let his length rest on the springy curls between her legs, gliding it back and forth and stoking the heat building within her.

She wanted to push up into him, but had no leverage with her legs dangling from the edge of the desk, and was on the verge of begging for more when Beau wrapped her leg around his waist and took himself in hand, tracing her entrance with the warm, soft head of his cock.

‘Bring your other leg up,’ he whispered, and she followed his command, encircling him with her long limbs.

He pushed the tip in. She whimpered with desire just as he withdrew, dragging the head along her seam before slipping into her once more. Emerald dug her heels into his backside, urging him to fill her completely, but he resisted, and his lips quirked in a sensual smile. She reached for the lapels of the coat he was still wearing and drew him to her until his soft lips met hers, and he was parting them with his tongue to taste her. Another inch of his hardness pressed in, and she mewled on his bottom lip caught between her teeth. With wicked slowness, he let the rest of his length fill her.

‘Is this what you want, my love?’ he asked, hot breath tickling the shell of her ear and making her shudder beneath him.

Emerald panted something like Yes and moved her hips in little circles, desperate for more sensation while her husband remained still inside her. Just as she thought she might go mad with anticipation, he pulled out as slowly as he’d entered her, maintaining his deliberate, unhurried manner while stroking the wild need growing inside her.

Her hands snaked around his neck, and Beau bent his forehead to rest on hers. Her legs twitched and shook where they were hooked around him. She let out desperate little cries each time he withdrew, and she welcomed him deep within.

‘So close,’ she panted. ‘More, Beau. I need more.’

Beau smothered his own growl as he kissed her again, hard and probing, and brought her to her peak with quick, demanding thrusts. Emerald cried out. Her whole body weightless and humming with exquisite bliss. A moment later, her husband called out her name in a blistering moan. She felt his cock swell and the warm release inside her. His thrusts slowed before stopping, but they remained joined as he folded over her, nuzzling her neck and kissing whatever skin he could reach.

‘Did you find what you were looking for at the Duke of Cudworth’s?’ Emerald asked, loving the uneven feel of her husband’s chest against hers as they both worked to catch their breath. She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke.

‘I did. I’ll tell you all about it after a bath.’

Emerald played with the soft curls at the base of his neck. ‘I’ll ring the bell just as soon as I can move and have the footmen fill your tub.’

‘You mistake me, my love,’ said Beau, pushing off the desk and pulling his wife up with him. ‘I believe I won the wager. They might bring the water, but it’s you who will fill the tub.’

Her eyes went as round as two saucers.

‘I’m disappointed in myself for not acting on such an idea sooner,’ he said, shaking out her skirts and beginning to right the bodice of her dress.

‘Sooner? When did it first occur to you?’

He glanced up from efforts, a wolfish smile on his handsome face. ‘The day you snuck into my room and hid under my bed.’

Emerald’s mouth made a little ‘o’, and Beau laughed as he tucked himself back into his breeches, took her hand, and led her from the study.